Blank
by LovingPillow
Summary: She holds too many secrets, but that's fine with her. After all, she'll take her secrets to the grave, and then no one will ever find out. Too bad her secrets aren't that hard to figure out, but at least the people who know are keeping it to themselves. Besides, it's not as if she's really hiding it, she's just not mentioning it.


**Title:** Blank  
**Summary:** She holds too many secrets, but that's fine with her. After all, she'll take her secrets to the grave, and then no one will ever find out. Too bad her secrets aren't that hard to figure out, but at least the people who know are keeping it to themselves. Besides, it's not as if she's really hiding it, she's just not mentioning it.

* * *

Hiding from her peers, a young girl stared at the translucent figures walking her way. Fascinated, she did nothing as they surrounded her. Blinking, one of the misty figures flew before her. All she could do was stare, and stare she did.

The silence didn't last that long though, as her attention was caught by a strand of silver. "Pretty..." Whispering, she reached out to grasp onto the strand of hair. When her hand passed through, she frowned and reached out to grasp it again. What met her was air, and she wasn't happy about it. "Why no touch?" The girl grumbled, glaring at her hand and the hair that wouldn't let her touch it.

Suddenly hearing laughter, she looked up. Blinking her shining emerald eyes at the odd people (she didn't know how else to call them), she looked down. "Why...laugh?" She questioned them, tears blurring her vision quicker than ever. "No laugh... No laugh..." She whispered, covering her ears in hopes of blocking the memories that caused her to become an outcast. Whimpering, she waited for their laughter to disappear. When she felt something cold touch the crown of her head, she looked up and wiped away her tears. The man who had been laughing at her earlier was now smiling at her, which was something she couldn't understand. "Why smile?" She questioned, furrowing her brows in confusion as his hand continued to pat her head. Receiving no answer, the girl could only stare at the dreamlike figures disappearing, all of them waving bye to her. It was as if they had never been there, conversing with her (or at least attempting to do so).

It wouldn't be until six years later that she realized she had encountered the ghost of one Hatake Sakumo, but that would be another story.

"Found you, Sakura."

Craning her neck, the girl noticed her teacher heaving heavily, as if he had run a marathon searching for her. Standing up, she grasped onto his hand (which was much larger than her own was) and started walking back to the school building. Break time had ended long ago, and she hadn't even noticed. The walk was slow, silent even, if you disregarded their breathing. For quite some time, Sakura didn't speak, but when she did, she was looking down at her feet. Calling out his name, she caught his attention.

"Why do people disappear?"

Observing her own feet, she thought back to the surreal figures and wondered why they had none. Since she wasn't looking up, she didn't notice him staring at her with a sad expression crossing his face. _Poor child, she's only six years old and already alone._ He thought, and then lifted her into his arms. When she looked at him with surprise, all he could do was smile gently. "Although they disappear, they will always be with you." He answered her question, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Despite the response being far off the topic in her mind, it served to make her thankful that her parents were with her no matter where she was. Smiling, they finally returned to the classroom.

Thankfully, for Sakura, no one (especially the girls) noticed that she was being held by their teacher, or else the bullying would become much more than just words. Jumping out of his arms, she landed on the ground as silently as she could, considering how they were in a noisy environment called a class. Slipping into her seat, she produced her own materials from her bag (thankfully intact) so that she wouldn't have to bother anyone in her class about borrowing their pencil crayons or paper. If she even thought about it, they would beat her until she knew where her place stood in the classroom. Distracted by her own drawing, she didn't notice her teacher, Kiyoshi Takahiro, staring at her in fascination.

It wouldn't be until two years later, at the age of eight, that her teacher would petition her to join the academy for ninja. After all, if she could control her silent landing as well as she could now, then he wouldn't know what to do if she _didn't_ become a ninja.

* * *

**Now that I'm back into writing-mode (or whatever mode you'd call this), I am sorry for having been so negative the past few days. Just so you know, I will be continuing my other stories, but time cannot tell when I'll finish the chapters. I do hope that you all do not give up reading my fics, but if you do, then I hope you at least enjoyed a small portion of it (anyone think food when you read this?)**

**Edit:**

**To the (guest) reviewer who asked whom the targeted audience was when Sakura spoke, I am not clear on whether you meant her speaking to the ghost of Hatake Sakumo, or her speaking to Kiyoshi Takahiro (an OC that will serve its purpose in this story). I am very sure I made it clear who she was speaking to, and if you did not understand, then you may have a missed a sentence or two.**


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